


Hardly Anything Left

by Knowthyself13



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Police, Beating, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Gay Sex, Hurt Clint Barton, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rescue, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 16:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20763500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowthyself13/pseuds/Knowthyself13
Summary: 32 has been caught in HYDRA's sex ring for years and was always of special interest to the division head, Alexander Pierce. After what turns out to be four years of captivity, FBI Special Agent Steve Rogers rescues him and brings him back to his former identity: James "Bucky" Barnes. The road to recovery is long, jagged, and full of pain, but healing is worth it when love comes with it.





	Hardly Anything Left

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based of a rather messed up and strange dream I had. I'm not entirely sure where these boys are leading me, so we'll see. Anyways, I had to post this on my phone, so errors and strange looking sections are inevitable. Please note so I can correct. It's also un-betaed.
> 
> Chapter two is written. It'll be up soon once I look it over again.

“See how quiet he is? We trained him to keep his noises to himself, but every once in a while, I like to see what I have to do to get him screaming.”

I catch the whine that tries to rip its way out of my throat as yet another lash crisscrosses my back. My shoulder is killing me, but with my arms trapped above my head, legs spread wide, and my toes barely touching the blocks, I can’t get any relief. I hear the men behind me shuffle around and know something worse must be coming. With blood dripping down my back, I tense waiting for whatever is coming knowing that there is absolutely no way of getting away. Suddenly someone kicks my ankle off the blocks, and pure will and horrific training keep me from screaming as my shoulder is wrenched in the short fall. My toes barely brush the floor and all my weight is hanging from my wrists. I try to scramble back on the blocks, but one of the suits moves it away with his foot. I want to glare at him, but instead, tears start to develop in my eyes.

A hand yanks my head back by my hair; “Tears will do nothing for you, 32. You know that. Your screams won’t either, but I look forward to hearing them.” The hand leaves my hair, and my head lolls forward. I give a startled gasp as a cattle prod electrifies my hip. My leg twitches causing my shoulder to pull again. The cattle prod continues to light up different places on my body. A leg. Ribs. My nipple. Over and over again, but I still don’t make a sound. Giving in will only make things worse if Master deems it too soon. “You’ve done well, 32, but I still want that scream I know is boiling in there.”

“Shock him on his balls. That always works with mine.” I hear a muffled scream that must come from this suit’s slave.

“Nothing so droll works on this one. But I know what will.” A cold sweat breaks out on my skin from the threat, knowing that Master is right. He knows this body too well.

I feel the cattle prod settle against my damaged shoulder and I immediately start whimpering and trying desperately to move away. Master and the suits laugh at my pathetic attempts. Master snickers as he grabs my hair again and holds me still. “Don’t hold back,” is all Master says before my world narrows to the excruciating pain from the electricity coursing through my ruined shoulder. My throat spasms as I finally scream, giving in to the pain Master causes. I can hear him laughing into my ear over my pain-filled screaming. The electricity ends and my screams turn to violent coughing only to be interrupted by more agonizing pain. I can taste blood in my mouth as gurgled noises come from my throat.

The suits’ and Master’s laughter are now overwhelming, but suddenly stop as shouting can be heard from new voices. Master releases me and I dangle, trying to get the blood out of my throat so I can breathe better. I can feel tears and snot rolling down my face and my hair is blocking my ability to see. I can’t hear what’s going on very well, but I can tell that people are shouting. I silent my whimpers to avoid punishment. Anything to avoid punishment. I don’t even try to track what’s going on around me, so I flinch when a hand lands on my side. The other hand lifts my chin, but I refuse to look the person in the face. I can see that the person is in a bulletproof vest with SWAT written on it, but Master has brought police here before, so I don’t let hope even flutter in my chest. The first time an officer came in uniform, I humiliated myself and was punished for believing I was getting out.

“What’s your name?” The officer asks, voice carefully measured. I don’t answer. Objects don’t have names and aren’t allowed to speak. “Okay then. We’ll get back to that. We’re going to let you down now and I’m here to help hold you up.” I can hear him continue to talk quietly, but I don’t bother to listen. It’s just a trick anyways. More humiliation. The pressure in my arms begins to lessen as the chains slacken. I scrunch my eyes shut as the blood rushing back into my extremities hurts. Soon enough, my feet are on the ground and my arms shackled in front of me. The officer hovers a hand over my hip to make sure I can stand before he unbuckles the cuffs from my wrists. I’m not supposed to be without them and I’m sure that Master will punish me for it later even though it’s what the officer wants. Once my arms are freed, I tuck my left as close to my body as possible. Sometimes I can keep Master and the suits from grabbing it if I pull it close to my body. My eyes are trained the officer’s feet and I can see blood splatters on the floor at our feet. I actually look at mine and can see the bruising that comes up the sides from the caning they took what I think was a couple of days ago. My right ankle is red from being kicked and I think it may be sprained.

The officer’s hands are hovering by my hips. “Can you walk?” I give a small nod. I must be functional. Not being functional means punishment. The officer grabs my left arm and I hold in my flinch. He leads me towards the seating area by the door. I assume he must want a blow job. I don’t normally do that as the Pain Slave, but I can do it. I will do it to avoid punishment. There are more people in uniforms over here and a number of slaves sitting around with blankets draped around their shoulders. Many of them appear to be crying as people in EMT uniforms scurry around. I can see flashing lights coming through the door, and I finally look around. I stop in my tracks as I watch Master being taken out of the room in handcuffs. The officer pulls on my arm before he notices I’ve stopped. Involuntarily I whimper.

“Oh God. I’m so sorry.” I look up into his eyes and he looks like he wants to beat himself up over my pain. My frantic hope finally wells in my chest and it must show in my eyes because he says, “Yes. This is all real. You’re getting out of here.” 

I just shake my head and start trembling. The officer, obviously panicked, calls for an EMT, but one of the other slaves gets to me first. I like him. Master and the suits call him 56, but I know his real name is Clint. I don’t know my own name anymore, but I know his. It helps keep him level knowing that he’s more than a number and a body to someone.

“It’s okay, 32. This is really happening. We get to leave and Master never gets to touch any of us ever again.” Clint leads me over to one of the couches where we sit. I can feel tears streaming down my face.

A lady in an EMT uniform crouches down in front of me and tries to catch my eye. I resolutely look at the ground. “What’s your name?” I don’t answer. She continues to look at me and I shift a little in discomfort.

“He doesn’t talk and he doesn’t seem to remember his name,” Clint answers for me.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I really need him to answer.”

“Well, ma’am, he doesn’t really talk, so I don’t foresee him answering you. I’ve been here for two years, and I’ve never heard him say a single word.”

“Okay, but I need,” she’s cut-off by another woman saying, “That is enough, Patty. His name is not essential for treatment. You go on. I’ll take care of him.” A different pair of legs move into my vision and ultimately kneel.

“I’m Maria. I’m here to assess your injuries and figure out how to help.” Her body turns toward Clint. “Now, what’s your name?” Clint responds with his name although he starts to say 56 before finally calling himself Clint. “Okay, Clint. I’m here to help you, too, but I could really use your help. What does this man go by since he doesn’t know his name?”

“Master calls him 32.”

“Okay, 32 it is.” I can see her body shift towards me. “32, I need to check you for injuries. I know there’s bleeding on your back, but I need to know what else is wrong.” I shift my head towards Clint.

“I know his left shoulder is bad. Master exploits it when He really wants to hurt 32.”

“Is that true, 32?” I nod my head to Maria. “Is it okay if I touch your shoulder?” I frown at the question, but ultimately shrug my right shoulder.

“That’s as close to a yes as you’re gonna get,” Clint informs her.

Maria lays her hand on my shoulder and I mostly suppress a flinch. She moves my arm around, and I’m able to stay silent until she presses on the spot where the cattle prod was and I whimper. I know I’m not supposed to make noise. I close my eyes and brace myself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll note the spot and make sure not to touch it again unless necessary.”

“Hey, 32.” I open my eyes and turn my head towards Clint. “You don’t have to hold it all in any more. You can make noise if something hurts. You’re allowed to show that now.” I just shake my head and turn it back to where Maria is still testing my shoulder. God, it hurts so much.

“It seems to me that the pain is caused by an untreated tear in your shoulder muscles and a dislocation. We’ll have to run some tests to find out for sure. What else should I know about?”

“32 has hearing problems on his left side. There’s the bottoms of his feet and it looks like his ankle is bruising. I’d guess that he’s got some other fractures, healed and not, elsewhere, especially in his ribs.”

Maria says, “You know a lot about his injuries,” as she gets up.

“We take care of each other as best we can. He does a lot to protect the rest of us, so it’s the least I can do,” Clint tells Maria.

“Okay, then. 32, I need to check your left ear, so I need you to tilt your head towards Clint.” I do that. “I’m going to move your hair out of the way and then stick this scope into your ear. It may be a little cold.” It is in fact cold and her hand on my hair makes goosebumps break out across my skin. I hate people touching my hair or the back of my neck. 

"He can’t hear you.” I’m a little startled to hear Clint start talking.

Maria returns to my front. “Duh. Of course. You appear to have a tear on your ear drum. It should be able to heal itself, but we have to keep it clean and dry as best we can. Now, as for the visible injuries on your back and feet: we need to get them cleaned and wrapped to avoid infection. We will start treating those now and will continue to do so once in the ambulance. 32. Would it make you more comfortable if Clint were in the same ambulance as you?” I give a short nod. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I need to grab some additional supplies. I’ll be right back.” 

I watch Maria’s feet shuffle away. Clint moves over until he’s pressed against my right side. I stiffen, instinctively afraid of being found too close to another slave. “It’s okay. Master and the rest of them are gone. It’s just slaves and saviours now.” I can feel the urge to cry again well up in my chest, but stave it off. I do let myself relax into Clint’s side. It feels nice to let someone else take my weight for a little while. I feel suddenly terribly tired and am about to doze off when suddenly someone touches my back. I push my body away from Clint’s and stiffen until I’m sitting perfectly straight. Or I would be if I could just stop shaking. I must avoid punishment. Please, no punishment. I can barely hear Clint yelling at someone over the sound of my labored breathing.

“You can’t just do that to someone!”

“I told him that I was about to touch him.” The person sounds like the EMT from earlier… Patty, maybe?

“He can’t hear very well! And you didn’t even wait for him to respond. Hell, I didn’t have enough time to tell you he didn’t hear you before you went and touched him. We’re fucking victims, lady, of severe God damn trauma. None of us wanted to be touched, least of all him! Do you notice how many more scars he has than the rest of us? Hmmm? That’s because he” I grab Clint’s hand. At some point during the rant, he stood up to face the woman. I’m shaking my head and trembling in my seat. Tears are leaking out of my eyes again. I can’t remember the last time I cried this much.

“Shit. I’m sorry, 32. I know you hate yelling. Here, just lean back into me while someone else tends to you. Where’s Maria?”

“I’m right here. That’s quite enough, Patty. I think it’s time you went home for the day.” Patty sputters indignantly. “That wasn’t actually a suggestion. Officer? If you would.” Something hits the ground behind me and causing me to jump slightly. I can hear angry strides leaving the building. “I am deeply sorry for her behaviour. You will not have to deal with her ever again. Until you are in the hospital, I am the only medical personnel you will be dealing with. I promise to tell you everything I do before I do it and will check to make sure I’m heard if you do not respond right away. Are you okay with that?” I nod at her, appreciating that she is making a point to speak to my right ear.

“Good. I need to begin tending to your back. If I had to guess, me being behind you is a source of discomfort, but is unfortunately unavoidable in this situation. I will be telling you everything before I do it. I need to clean your back first to assess the damage. That will be done with these wipes. Afterwards, I need to put some butterfly bandages across any that need stitches. The shallower ones will get pads put on them and bandages. We will repeat the process with your feet and any other open injuries. I’ll also be wrapping your ankle and immobilizing your left shoulder with a makeshift bandage harness. As a reminder, I will be telling you all this as we go along. Also, Clint. Sam here will be checking you out. He and I have discussed that he will also be telling you everything that he is about to do. We are going to work as quickly as we can so we can you both to the hospital.”

Maria is true to her word and tells me each thing before she does it. I just have to nod to acknowledge her and the whole thing passes fairly quickly. I almost feel the urge to laugh as she puts socks on my feet. “Well, you back injuries are not as severe as they originally appeared. Only two will need stitches and only a couple of stitches at that. Your feet have no open wounds, just significant bruising. Your ankle is sprained, but all we can do for a sprain is lessen the mobility of the joint. That’s why it’s wrapped. I can tell that you are slightly dehydrated and under-nourished. I’m surprised it isn’t worse, honestly.”

“‘Non-functioning slaves are useless.’ And believe me, Miss, useless slaves disappear.” Clint’s voice has a hollow ring to it as he repeats one of Master’s most frequent phrases. There are a few beats of silence as that settles uncomfortably in the air.

“I am glad the two of you are still here with each other.” Maria pauses a little awkwardly. “It’s time to move the two of you on to the hospital. To fit both of you in, you’ll need to walk to the open ambulance. Can you both walk over? If not, we can carry you.”

“We’ll make it walking,” Clint says and I nod. 

We stand up, but before we start walking, Maria says, “Good. Before that, we have some hospital gowns for you to put on. I’m afraid they’re not particularly warm or flattering, but they’re something. There will be blankets in the ambulance.” Maria hands one of the gowns off to Sam. “I’m going to wrap this around and then button up the side. On top of that, I will then wrap down your arm to prevent the joint shifting. Is that okay?” I nod my head. Maria pulls the gown around me before doing the snaps over my left shoulder. She puts my left arm in a sling that tightens around the waist, thereby preventing me from lifting my arm. I’m fine with it because now people won’t be able to grab it either.

Once Maria is done, we slowly walk to the waiting ambulance. Clint stays as close to me as possible as I limp my way across the room. He doesn’t touch me, and as much as the support would help, I am glad he doesn’t. I can see the officer following out of the corner of my eyes. I hear Maria say that he should follow in his car. For some reason, I’m glad he’s coming, too. Soon enough, we’re sitting on a stretcher in the ambulance, the doors shut, and we begin to rumble down the road, away from Hell.


End file.
